


The Briar Patch

by windandthestars



Category: Flashpoint
Genre: Bloodplay, F/M, Kink, Knifeplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2012-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-16 01:24:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windandthestars/pseuds/windandthestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tonight in his hands lays the briar patch, the twisted complications of life.  He’ll work her free from the invisible thorns while she watches their scars, blood red sacrifices, dance across her skin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Briar Patch

She's still panting, sides aching, sweat stinging in her eyes. She aches, from the run, from her day, from the impact her shoulder had taken, but none of that matters anymore. It aches. She aches. Every inch of her aches and she relishes that. Sprawled out carelessly, a leg and an arm hanging off the side of the couch she grins up at the ceiling. Somewhere down by her feet Sam sits prying the last of the gritty black clay out from under his nails with his pocketknife.

He’s been there since she laid down but neither of them has said much. He says something now, an offhand comment judging by the tone of his voice, but the specifics are lost on her. The ache in her chest every time her lungs expand is far more interesting than the words that buzz in her head in reply.

She mumbles something back and he laughs. She feels her stomach twist, knotted dully with pain as she shifts around to catch sight of him, neck craning up to see past her bent knee. He’s watching her with a carefully measured gaze and despite the smile still present on his face his eyes are gleaming dangerously.

He wants in on her little game, the pleasant buzzing in her head. She squirms farther down onto the couch, letting the ache in her shoulder flare, her feet slip into his lap.

He toys with her pant leg and she huffs out a sigh of annoyance. He was thinking too much. He was worrying too much about what it meant for him, how it was even possible that he associated her, her pain with this and not the agony of the job, the bullet wounds and the near death experiences. Pleasantly distracted, she’s not giving any of that a second though.

Snaps pop and cold air sends goosebumps tickling up her leg. The devilish look has returned to his eyes and she grins at him wickedly, humming as he rakes his knife up her calf.

There’s no pressure on the blade, but the faint white scrape of skin left in its wake is enough to make her pulse quicken. She breathes in slow and steady to keep her head from rushing and plants her heel firmly against his thigh to egg him on.

The pressure increases. She can see the blood, the tiniest beads of crimson red. There’s no pain, or not enough; she’s not discriminating, the pain edging out every last reminder of her day. Another smooth arc against her calf and the droplets are bigger, blood welling along the raised red welt.

The friction of the blade, the drag of it against her skin must intrigue him because he hasn’t actually cut her yet. She’ll keep goading him, but she doubts she’ll win. Tonight in his hands lays the briar patch, the twisted complications of life. He’ll work her free from the invisible thorns while she watches their scars, blood red sacrifices, dance across her skin.

**Author's Note:**

> For kink_bingo: bloodplay and painplay (other)


End file.
